Many Unhappy Returns
by Dark Aria
Summary: The night after Cal's return from Tumulus. Niko cleans him up and tries to cope with how drastically their lives changed overnight.


Here was my entry for the contest over on Tumulus for June '09. We were to use at least 3 of the following words: email, bathtub, incense, grounded, fuzz, magenta. It's a flashback to the first night after Cal came back from Tumulus.

Many (Un)happy Returns

Niko half-carried his brother Cal to the motel room. They were many hours away from the burning wreckage of their mother's trailer and the spot where the grendel had dragged him screaming through a door into hell. Twenty-four hours later Cal had spilled out of another doorway, only now he was older by a couple of years at Niko's best guess. Niko didn't know what they'd done to his brother, but it had to have been ugly. He'd been naked when he first appeared, covered in bruises and scratches, his hair was filthy and matted. He was full of animalistic rage, and had damn near bitten Niko before recognizing him. He spent the long day's ride in the passenger seat, legs curled up tight, face pressed into his knees. When they made a quick stop for gas, Niko bought bottled water and the makings for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Cal drank down the first bottle in a matter of seconds. When Niko handed him a sandwich, Cal sniffed it suspiciously then snatched it out of his hand and ate it while growling at Niko. He handed off the occasional sandwich throughout the day to his brother, who otherwise remained in his fetal position. Niko could tell he hadn't slept from the occasional furtive glance his way, and the piano wire tension in Cal's shoulders

Niko locked the motel room door and helped Cal shuffle to the bathroom. When he flipped on the light he saw this motel room actually had a bathtub. It was enough of a blessing that he could forgive the decorator's strange fixation on the color magenta, which seemed to be used for everthing from the cheap polyester coverlets to the bathroom tile. Niko flipped the toilet seat down and helped Cal sit, then turned on the water and set in the stopper. Gripping the edges of cheap counter laminate, he bowed his head and tried to center his thoughts. Images of their mother screaming as she burned replayed behind his eyelids every time he lowered them. He shuddered. The memory of what came after was worse – waiting near the twisted, buckled wreckage of the trailer in the first morning light, Cal's screams replaying in his mind. Those screams echoed all day as the sun traveled across the sky and burned into his memory the images of Cal being dragged away. He had never felt so helpless. Yet he waited because if by some miracle Cal came back, or if the grendel opened the gate to return to this world, he would be ready this time. And Cal did come back: tumbling through another rip of light, spilling out into a snarling, spitting mess. He had changed more than a mere day could account for, and in his eyes there was madness. Niko knew that his rescue of Cal had only just begun. He breathed slowly in and out, focusing solely on that for a minute until he felt more grounded. At last he was able to look up into the mirror and meet his own calm gaze. He would do this. There was no other option.

Cal had moved to a corner, crouched down and watching Niko with gleaming eyes. Niko knelt next to Cal. "Okay, we need to get you undressed so we can wash you up." Cal clutched at the oversized sweatshirt and glared at him. "Cal, come on. It's only until you're done. Then you can get dressed again." With a great deal of cajoling, he managed to talk Cal into stripping down and stepping into the warm water. Niko's inhaled sharply as he had a better look in the harsh bathroom light at the layers of bruises and scars on Cal's pale skin.

He talked to him in an even, soothing voice about anything at all except why they were here. Cal's head was cocked to one side, but Niko wasn't sure if he was hearing the words or just keeping his brother in his line of sight. Niko's hands shook a little as he bathed Cal. Nothing seemed to be permanently crippled (if you didn't count his mind,) but he had obviously received extended abuse at the hands of the grendel.

Niko spoke softly to Cal as he carefully detangled his hair and washed it.

Cal lifted one hand and turned it over, studying it. "They put me back in the wrong body," he said dully.

"What?" A cold chilled seized Niko's heart.

"This isn't my body. It's too heavy. I wasn't this tall two days ago."

He shifted around and gripped Cal's shoulders. He shook him a little. "Cal, look at me." Cal looked up through his sodden black hair. "This is your body. The same one you've always had. See – here's the scar you got on your knee when you fell off the rock wall when you were five. And you still have your gray eyes – just like mine." Niko infused his voice with unshakable belief.

Cal shivered. "Then how come I don't remember anything? How come I'm different?"

"I don't know. We'll figure it out. You may remember in time. But Cal, I don't think time runs the same on that side. You may have been there longer than two days." Even now, Niko would not sugar coat the truth. He brushed Cal's damp hair off his face. Even that had grown out, to the point where it brushed just past his shoulders.

Cal closed his eyes. With his face finally clean and hair pulled back, Niko could see the blue shadows of exhaustion under his eyes. Only a few days ago Cal was going through the last stages of his voice changing. Now there was a light fuzz along his jawline. Bruises lined his face. On his neck were old, raised scars from the grendel's claws. Niko sighed. "Come on, little brother. You're as clean as you're going to get. Let's get you dried off."

"And dressed," he looked over to where Niko had set the sweats. Cal needed help to climb out of the tub. His brother was beyond fatigued, but at least the grendel hadn't starved him. They wanted Cal alive for some reason, but Niko couldn't begin to fathom why. His brother also seemed disconnected to his body, as if he did not fully inhabit it right now. It took Niko a little convincing to get Cal into a clean shirt; he seemed ridiculously attached to the sweatshirt he had been wearing. It was only when he swore to have it cleaned and returned in the morning that Cal relented. Niko filled the bathroom sink and let it soak for now.

Niko helped Cal out to the bed, and wrapped him in the blankets and coverlet. He sat propped up with pillows against the headboard and wrapped his arms tight around his brother. "Nobody's going to come near you ever again, little brother," he promised in a harsh whisper. Cal squeezed his eyes shut and pressed against him. He tightened his hold briefly and rested his cheek against the top of Cal's damp black hair. Eventually exhaustion took over and Cal sagged against Niko, asleep. Niko listened to his breathing, clutching a knife in one hand and tensing at every sound: the television from the next room, passing trucks on the nearby highway, footsteps of passersby. He gritted his teeth and swallowed grief for Cal's innocence. Emotion was a luxury, now.

Niko fought off his fatigue. He needed sleep badly, but he was too afraid to close his eyes for any length of time. Cal had always placed his faith in him, but two nights ago he had screamed for his older brother to save him, and Niko had failed. Never again, he swore to his unconscious brother. The grendel will never be allowed near you again.


End file.
